The Bet
by Excel Aunt
Summary: Chlark S8, Valentine's Day, Spoilers through "Requiem", Love is shown in small things.


**The Bet**

The coffee table held one bottle of wine and two wine glasses. Clark hadn't touched his glass at all, but Chloe sipped quite freely from hers. She had a nice, warm, tipsy feeling from the red alcohol. Clark kept refilling it for her, having stated that the events of her day demanded she get a better portion. She had opened bottle with a toast to her annulment. The paperwork was signed that afternoon, on Valentine's Day.

The long time best friends decided to finish the evening hidden away. Neither of them wanted to brave crowds of happy couples. They used the holiday as an excuse to visit, with dinner at Clark's, a fire in the fire place, and cards. They sat on the floor with their backs pushed up against the sofa. Shelby joined them as they both joked about keeping it casual.

"Oh, come on Clark," Chloe said. "It's a little romantic."

"Well, maybe just a little, but it's nice."

It was innocent: that's how the evening started. The rose on the table was blurred in by Clark. It was a yellow rose. Yellow was for friendship. Chloe earlier had bought a box of candies. The one good thing about Valentine's Day was the assorted chocolate candies—especially the coconut ones. She tried to ignore the shape and color of the box as she presented it to Clark.

_We're just friends._

He thought it and she thought it. They had to remind themselves who they were in each other's lives. Although, when pressed by loved ones, both were willing admit they loved each other quite a bit.

It showed in their actions.

Clark was extremely attentive to Chloe as they played poker. He didn't want her to hurt over her breakup with Jimmy. Chloe was impressed with Clark's compassion. She knew that Clark was living vicariously through her. Clark's ex had torn his heart up into a million pieces, and he had suffered acute pain_._ The experience had made him mope in the barn for weeks. It was sweet the way he assumed she hurt like he had. Her heartache was dull and nagging. Her pride was more injured than her heart.

They used the candies from a box of Valentine's Days chocolates to place bets on their hands. Clark had sorted the candies according to kind as Clark only could. He used his x-ray vision to see the insides. Chloe played for the coconut ones. He lost poker hands for her, just so she could nibble on the corners of coconut confections.

"So, you're single again," Clark said. "Do you want to talk about it?"

Chloe dropped her hand to reach for her wine. She had kept a lot of detail from Clark. Clark knew she and Jimmy had been fighting, but she kept him out of the loop as a courtesy to Jimmy.

"I suppose I can tell you know." Chloe swallowed the inch of wine remaining. "Jimmy wants a family Clark, and I can't give him that."

Clark's eyes fell away from her face to reflect. She knew Clark very well. She knew what he was thinking. From the way he blinked and fiddled with his hands--he was assuming that Chloe didn't want to have a baby. He was ready to take Jimmy's side, and then, she saw his jaw set, as he remembered that he was Chloe's best friend, and that he should support her, even if what she wanted didn't make sense to him. He turned to her and she saw multiple questions fighting inside of him. Chloe wondered which one he'd pluck out from the assortment.

"You'd be a great mother Chloe," Clark said.

This surprised her, and she huffed a bit. Clark thought she was insecure about motherhood. She pointed to her empty glass of wine and Clark transferred the remains of the bottle.

"You're so kind and patient. You're a great listener and a real comfort. You should do it, you can actually have kids, you know."

The timbre of his voice was tight. He would love to have kids, but he couldn't. He was an alien refugee from a gone world, and the last of his kind.

"Having our own kids is really important to Jimmy," Chloe said with extra weight on the possessive. "But I can't give him a son or a daughter."

Clark's green eyes still were void of understanding.

_Oh, come on, you big dumb alien._

Clark gave her his 'I don't get' face next.

There was no way Chloe was going to give Clark the specific details. She knew a few months ago she was off and a visit to the doctor confirmed her suspicions. Instead of telling Clark her diagnosis, Chloe took Clark's hand into her own and uncurled his fingers. She led Clark's hand to her abdomen and flattened it over her womb. She held it there when he flinched at the intimacy.

"The stress from Brainiac broke me, Clark. I can't have kids."

"Ah, shit Chloe," Clark said.

Brainiac had been his enemy and his responsibility. Therefore, this was his fault, but what could he say? Clark's hand moved up from her abdomen to her left shoulder. He turned her. He placed his right hand into position on her rib cage. Then her arms came up to brace his neck. They hugged deeply. Clark was reluctant to let her go.

"Chloe, I'm really, truly sorry."

"Don't say it's your fault, whatever you do, don't think that. It's not."

She started to tremble for him in his arms. He marveled at her emotional release. She shared her troubles him silently. There was no distance between them. It was no wonder Clark was aware of every move she made. Her forehead was bowed forward, resting on his collarbone. Her hands rubbed his arms in long, fluid motions. When she sniffed, he brought his hand up to her face to cup her check. His thumb found a single, lone tear. He smeared the wetness across her check.

_It's my fault._

"Did you talk about adoption?"

"Jimmy wants a kid, his own kid," Chloe repeated.

Chloe broke out of Clark's arms and rubbed her eyes for herself. Her mascara was out of control, and her fingers had gray streaks on them.

"It's for the best then," Clark said. He offered her tissue. "I didn't realize how close-minded he was."

"I thought he loved me," Chloe added. "But there was something more important out there he loves more."

"I can't imagine what that is," Clark comforted. "When it comes to lovability, you rank pretty high."

"Thanks," she sniffed. "Are you trying to say something?"

"What's to say?" Clark asked. "We know how we feel, right?"

"I guess."

Chloe sounded disappointed to Clark.

"Maybe we should return to our game."

She blindly grasped the spot where she left her cards, but during their hug, they had scattered a tad. She looked, and then noticed that Clark's cards had flipped over. He had several picture cards, all from the hearts suit. _Possibly a royal flush? _Chloe only had deuces.

Clark picked them up and seemed not to notice Chloe's distraction with them. It was Clark's turn to act. He wagered more coconut candies.

"These are the last ones, Chloe."

Chloe watched Clark shuffle his five cards around. He kept checking her face and his eyes eventually connected with hers. She faltered under his gaze. She realized she sucked at poker, yet, she was winning. A wild thought entered her mind. Clark was losing to her. _Why?_ She stared down at her own stupid pair. She got the strangest feeling that Clark loved her more than in a just friends way_._

It was her turn to act.

All twenty-three of her candies were pushed forward. Clark, who had a winning hand, could call her out. She would lay down her meager pair of deuces and lose this hand. Or Clark could fold, proving to her that he did, in fact, love her.

"I can't cover that," Clark said.

"I don't care. It's all or nothing."

Chloe watched all of Clark's facial ticks go off as he considered the situation. Chloe was betting on Clark's feelings—not chocolates. He just wanted her to be happy. He didn't want Chloe to sabotage his efforts to cheer her up. He was going to fold.

"You got me."

He heard his own voice laced with deeper meaning. Clark lost all his poker face. He felt blood rush into his checks.

"You've got me, Chloe. Forever."

Chloe kissed him on the check and whispered in his ear. "Thank you, Clark. For being my friend."

Clark returned her kiss for one of his own. His lips fell naturally over hers. What should have stopped at friendly progressed easily into something more passionate. The poker game was over, and now they were betting on something that was long overdue.

~fin~


End file.
